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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827944">Black and White and Grey In between</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Milk_Tea/pseuds/Coffee_Milk_Tea'>Coffee_Milk_Tea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mentions of Sex, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Nyx Ulric Appreciation Week, NyxUlricWeek2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:08:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827944</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Milk_Tea/pseuds/Coffee_Milk_Tea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The border between Galahd and Insomnia is a straight line that Nyx walks everyday, arms outstretched to keep his balance from falling to one side or the other. And the more he walks that line, the more muddled it gets until eventually it’s a path that’s as well worn as the one from his childhood home to the stream, and just as familiar.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cor Leonis/Nyx Ulric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Black and White and Grey In between</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day two of Nyx Ulric Appreciation Week<br/>Prompt: Crossing Borders</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The thing he remembers most is how much it hurt.</p><p>Being dragged into a boat by the collar of his shirt isn’t as painless as they make it look in the movies. Especially not when you’re being hauled around by someone as strong as Libertus. His body <em> aches </em>, enough that he can’t even stand on his own two feet without toppling over into the uneven mud and grass that they’re trekking through on their way to the docks. </p><p>The scent of sulfur is abundant and it burns his nostrils as explosions sound all around him, but it isn’t like he can really hear them anymore, not with the way his ears have been ringing for the past few minutes. He can, however, feel the ground shaking beneath his body and the pressure increasing in his skull.<br/>
<br/>
Libertus props him up against the side of a dinghy as other indiscernible figures try to pile into it as well. It makes the boat rock and Nyx thinks he might be motion sick, on top of everything else.</p><p> Libertus smacks the side of his face until Nyx can properly focus on his best friend long enough to watch his mouth move but no sounds come out.<br/>
<br/>
“...ou…er….me?”<br/>
<br/>
“What?” Nyx says, though by the way Libertus jerks back he thinks maybe he yells it instead.<br/>
<br/>
Libertus turns around and waves at someone, then their boat is in motion and the fields of Galahd start to slowly fade into the distance. When understanding rushes over Nyx like a bucket of cold water, the ringing in his ears dissipates and he suddenly sits up, scrambling for the edge of the boat. </p><p>“Selena!” he yells, but he’s dragged back by a strong pair of arms.<br/>
<br/>
Libertus wrestles with him until Nyx is pinned under his weight and Libertus is staring down at him with just as frantic an expression. “Nyx, she’s gone! They’re all gone, we can’t go back.”</p><p>“B-But...my mom, and Selena—”<br/>
<br/>
“There’s no one left, Nyx,” comes Pelna’s distraught voice from beside him. “There’s <em> nothing </em> left.”<br/>
<br/>
And that was right, wasn’t it?<br/>
<br/>
When Libertus had found him Nyx was nearly dead, blown away from an explosion that had shredded his home before he could even reach the front door. The home he had left just twenty minutes before. His sister had begged to tag along, but he stopped her. He told her to keep their mom company.<br/>
<br/>
Why didn’t he let her come with him? Why couldn’t he have saved her?</p><p>“Where are we going?” Nyx manages to ask through the fog in his mind, and he can’t remember his voice ever sounding so small before. But he’d also never felt this scared before in all his 18 years.<br/>
<br/>
“Insomnia,” Crowe says grimly. “Beg for mercy and hope to hell they’re in a good mood…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><em>“Nyx, darling, will you go and collect a fresh pot of water for me? I want this bread to taste as fresh as possible and not like it’s been chewed up and processed by a Garula.” </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> Nyx looked up from the table and stalled his whittling, placing his knife in his pocket and his newest project on the table. </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> “Yeah, you got it.” </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> “I wanna come too!” Selena whined, standing in front of the door to act as a deterrent. </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> “It’ll take longer if you do, kiddo. You always spend like ten minutes picking flowers from the stream,” Nyx argued, easily nudging her small body out of his way. </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> “Do not.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Do too.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Do not!” </em>
</p><p><em> “Do too!” </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> “Do—” </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> “Children,” his mother sighed in exasperation, but a fond smile was permanently etched into her features. </em></p><p>
  <em> Nyx rolled his eyes and looked back over to Selena. “How about this, you stay here and help mom and I’ll bring you flowers from the stream. Enough to weave a wreath with.” </em>
</p><p><em> Selena pondered that for a second before relenting, though not without a very dramatic sigh. “Fine, but I also want to braid your hair!” </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> “Deal,” Nyx laughed.  </em></p><p>
  <em> He grabbed the water pot by the door and left with a wave, walking down the well worn path to the nearby stream. </em>
</p><p><em> The tall grass and bubbling waters welcomed him, along with a litany of white and purple flowers scattered around the stream and the fields beyond. True to his word, he knelt and picked enough flowers for Selena to weave, as well as a full pot of water for his mother’s cooking. But as he started the walk back to his home, he felt the air change. </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> Gone was the peaceful sounds of nature, and in its place was an eerie silence. The animals were completely silent and the breeze that had been as soft as the flap of a butterfly's wings now whipped through the tall grass, ripping away strands as it carried them far away. The sky darkened and with it came the rain and the first strike of thunder, distantly followed by the unmistakable sound of gunfire. </em></p><p><em> Nyx’s eyes widened, the bouquet of flowers and pot of water long forgotten as he ran back home. The sounds of war got louder the closer he got and in the distance he saw the shine of red lights on Niflheim drop ships. </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> When his home came into view, the brief relief he had when he saw his mother and sister inside by the window was immediately replaced with fear as the first of many mortars were fired.  </em></p><p><em> Selena had seen him through the window and she threw open the door. “Nyx!” </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> “Selena get down—” </em></p><p>
  <em> He felt the explosion before he heard it and the force was so strong it blew him back nearly twenty feet, his body rolling along the earth, collecting mud and debris as he went. His ears rang, his vision was blurred but even then he could tell his childhood home was gone, obliterated, and now falling around him in splinters of wood, brick, and ash. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Nyx!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Nyx groaned, turning over to see a large figure approach him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Nyx!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His mother...Selena...all gone… </em>
</p><p>“Nyx, wake up!”</p><p>Nyx bolts upright and Crowe has to hold him down before he accidentally falls out of the boat. Again.</p><p>“What? What happened?”<br/>
<br/>
Crowe sighs and plops down next to him, looking utterly exhausted. </p><p>“We’re here but...we’re not alone.”</p><p>Nyx stares at her in a sort of groggy confusion before turning his head and seeing they had pulled up onto a sandy shore and yeah, they very much were not alone. Covering the beach and the cliffside beyond were what looked like a shit ton of men in black, all with the shiny silver Insomnia crown on their clothing. </p><p>Libertus and Nyx are the first to cautiously get out of the boat and manage to drag it further up the shore with Pelna and Crowe following their lead.</p><p>A tall man in black and silver with a beret pulled low over his forehead steps out of a car at the top of the cliffside and begins approaching them. Nyx holds his hand out to others, advising them to stay back as he steps up, putting a little distance between the man and his friends. It always went unsaid, but even back in Galahd, Nyx had assumed a leader role amongst his group of friends and now wasn’t any different.</p><p>“You have to have a permit to sail your boat on this coast. Do you have a permit?” the man asks when he finally reaches them. His voice was gruff, but Nyx could tell he wasn’t too much older than himself.</p><p>Nyx pats his body and spins around in a circle before shrugging and looking to the man again.<br/>
“Sorry, I think I left it my other pair of dirty clothes.”</p><p>The man doesn’t look amused. “You have the entire Crownsguard’s attention right now, kid. Do you really think you should be cracking jokes?”</p><p>Nyx holds his hands up defensively. “Well, I just watched my country get burned to the ground by Niflheim troops and I’ve been told humor is a great coping mechanism.”<br/>
<br/>
The man tilts his head back a little to properly look at Nyx now. He watches the man’s eyes taking in the tattoos on his face and the small start of a braid at his temple.</p><p>“You’re Galahdan,” he says, and it’s not a question.</p><p>Nyx glances at the guy’s outfit and spots a nametag. “What gave it away, Leonis?” </p><p>Leonis narrows his eyes but before he can potentially throttle Nyx for his comments, another man is approaching them and Nyx tenses, already on his guard and reaching for a dagger at his hip that isn’t there.</p><p>“Marshal, what’s taking so long?”</p><p>Marshal of the Crownsguard, huh?</p><p>Leonis doesn’t take his eyes off of Nyx. “They’re Galahdan, your Majesty.”</p><p>Nyx blinks at the title, forgetting his tough guy act to turn and face the man who was undoubtedly the King of Insomnia.</p><p>“Then we should be getting them blankets and food, not interrogating them on a cold beach.”<br/>
<br/>
‘Regis—”<br/>
<br/>
“What is your name, young man?” King Regis asks, turning to Nyx now and giving him his full attention. </p><p>That only makes the tension in Nyx’s body grow.</p><p>“Nyx, sir. Nyx Ulric.”<br/>
<br/>
“Nyx. It’s very nice to meet you. Please excuse my Marshal, here. He doesn’t trust anyone.”<br/>
<br/>
Nyx raises his brow. “And you do?”</p><p>King Regis smiles. “Only the ones who look trustworthy. And you and I have the same enemy, Nyx Ulric. Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”<br/>
<br/>
“What kind of agreement?”</p><p>“Let us bring you back to the Citadel,” King Regis says and he turns around to walk back to where his envoy was waiting. “No sense in talking politics out here.”</p><p>“And what if I refuse?” Nyx asks because he was nothing if not a stubborn little shit.</p><p>King Regis pauses and glances at him from behind his shoulder. “With all due respect, Nyx Ulric, I don’t think refusing is in your best interest.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Are you fucking kidding me?” Crowe laughs, exasperation clear in the tone of her voice.</p><p>Nyx doesn’t answer. He just continues to stare down at the hot cup of coffee in his hands, hoping maybe he can find a better answer for her in the swirling brown liquid.</p><p>“No, Nyx, answer me. Are you fucking kidding me?” she repeats, louder now and Nyx sighs.</p><p>“I’m not fucking kidding you, Crowe. That’s what he said.”</p><p>“Military service in return for citizenship. That has to be some kind of illegal, right? Forcing refugees to enlist? And for what? An army that didn’t give a fuck about Galahd to begin with?” Crowe slaps her empty cup off the table and it goes flying across their suite, shattering when it connects with the wall.</p><p>Libertus and Pelna were standing aside watching Crowe’s tantrum and smartly staying silent.</p><p>“What else was I supposed to say, Crowe? No? They would have shipped us right back to Galahd if I declined. What’s <em> left </em> of Galahd, anyway,” Nyx spits. “And it’s not just military service for citizenship. We’ll also get to live here, and other Galahdians are welcomed to seek refuge too. Women, children, the sick, the injured. King Regis is willing to let them all stay.”</p><p>“Yeah, at the expense of our...fucking lives!” she shouts, kicking a stool over.</p><p>“Crowe, can you stop destroying their shit?” Pelna begs. “They didn’t have to let us stay in the Citadel but they did so the least we can do is show them a little gratitude.”</p><p>Crowe laughs and it’s cynical and dark. “<em> Let </em> us, yeah that’s fucking grand. Hilarious. Might as well be prisoners.”</p><p>Nyx slams his cup down and stands up. “You can leave, Crowe. Nothing is stopping you from saying no and heading home,” he says and gestures to the door. “But I’m not going to sit around and whine about the unfortunate situation we’re in. This isn’t fucking ideal but it’s better than starving and dying off. At least this way we can have a chance to get back at those Niflheim fucks and take Galahd back.”</p><p>Crowe scoffs and she turns away from him, crossing her arms. It’s painful to watch because in moments like this, Nyx can imagine he’s back home having some kind of petty argument with his sister. </p><p>The room is quiet and the tension in the air is so thick Nyx thinks he might suffocate in it. But finally, Crowe relents and she drops her arms at her side.</p><p>“Do you really think this is the best thing for us, Nyx?”<br/>
<br/>
Nyx looks at her, turns to look at Libertus and Pelna too. Their eyes all reflect the same fear he saw in his mother and Selena’s eyes in their last moments. He’s sure his own eyes look the same.</p><p>“Yeah, I do.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Ten years seems like such a long time, but in the grand scheme of things it’s just a small fraction of a person’s life, something that can really pass in the blink of an eye if you’re not paying attention.</p><p>At 28 years old, Nyx feels he’s only just barely started living.</p><p>It was a major culture shock when he first arrived in Insomnia. The tall buildings, the roads and cars and technology were extremely overwhelming but finding that little pocket of Galahd in the slums was absolute nirvana. </p><p>And as time had passed, more and more refugees began showing up along the shores and they all congregated in Little Galahd with the elders who survived sharing their stories and beads and food. They would write down everything they remembered of their home, their traditions, to pass on to the new little ones who would be born in this concrete jungle with no memory of what it was like to run through the fields of tall grass, leaping over streams, and weaving flowers into their hair. </p><p>Nyx often felt his life was torn in two. On one side were the memories of Galahd. The intense desire to have large dinners shared between his friends and comrades and the potlucks for those who were worse off and couldn’t afford food themselves. There were the weekly dances, with laughter ringing out through the slums until the very early morning and then there were the ceremonies for tattoos, the weekly classes taught by the women on how to braid, how to weave in your beads and pray to the Gods.</p><p>On the other was the new life he’d made for himself as a Kingslaive in the Citadel. It was learning how to use a cellphone and communications systems. It was finally getting over his fear of cars and having to get a driver’s license. It was having rank and knowing when he could speak and when to keep his head down. It was absorbing the King’s magic to give him the ability to warp. A completely different culture from the one he was born and raised in. Not to mention the blatant disdain that Insomnia’s civilians often showed to him when he was just trying to get a coffee in the morning or go for a jog.</p><p>Mothers pulled their children away, drunkards spat and threw bottles, and that was just part of the life Nyx had to live now.</p><p>But that line wasn’t as black and white as he first imagined it would be. Throughout the years he’s also learned how to find the grey zone. Like using Kukri’s as his weapon of choice, one forged with Galahdan sigils and the other cut from the finest Insomnia metal. Or weaving purple silk and coeurl print into his standard issue uniform, despite Drautos’ many protests about proper attire. And sometimes it was sleeping with the Marshal of the Crownsguard because fuck trying to explain his baggage and trauma to anyone who wouldn’t understand. Cor doesn’t ask him to talk about his past if he doesn’t want to, and Cor doesn’t shoot him dirty looks or spit at him when he walks through the city proudly showing off his hard earned braids and tattoos, the ones that show just how hard he had worked to make a name for himself in Galahd. Instead, Cor kisses every scar on his body that he’s gotten from being a ‘Glaive (and some from before). Cor tangles his hands in Nyx’s braids and tugs on them when Nyx takes him into his mouth. Cor lets Nyx host his potlucks in their shared apartment and doesn’t complain when they go until 4 in the morning and Nyx has to call in sick the next day because he drank too much of Libertus’ Galahdan ale.</p><p>Assimilating was never something Nyx had wanted to do. When he was 18 he vowed to be proudly Galahdan until the day he died but the longer he was in service, the more he realized he had a deep love for this new place he was calling home. And his desire to protect King Regis, as well as that little punk of a Prince, grew stronger every day too. </p><p>The border between Galahd and Insomnia is a straight line that Nyx walks everyday, arms outstretched to keep his balance from falling to one side or the other. And the more he walks that line, the more muddled it gets until eventually it’s a path that’s as well worn as the one from his childhood home to the stream, and just as familiar.</p>
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